


Ships Passing in The Night

by petaldust



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Background Relationships, Coping, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Holding Hands, Nightmares, Time Skips, ignoring kos because it's a mess, letting these girls emote and be vulnerable, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petaldust/pseuds/petaldust
Summary: a messy fix-it fic written for the grishaverse bigbang. just letting nina and inej get better endings and also emotionally support each other. i haven't read soc in ages. so it's probably very ooc. but i just wanted inej and nina to be able to vent and hug and be gay ok.
Relationships: Inej Ghafa/Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Grishaverse Big Bang 2019





	Ships Passing in The Night

To Nina, it was pure luck that she and Inej had docked in Ketterdam at the same time. To Inej, it had to be something more. Saints’ sake, she’d hardly heard from anyone since she’d left. Not until now. And surely it was Nina for a reason.  
She’d spotted Nina from one of her favourite perches, an old cobblestone roof. Even if she was still adapting to her land legs, she’d never stopped being the Wraith. If anything, she was more graceful than ever. Scaling the crow’s nest on rough waters did that. She’d always been the first to volunteer, though it’d been daunting at first. Even for her. Sure, she’d been raised by acrobats, but there was a difference between climbing a ladder and climbing it while the seas tossed your ship around like a child playing rough with his toy.  
And of course, Nina hadn’t spotted her until she’d slipped down and woven her way through the crowd. Even then, it’d taken the gentlest tap on the shoulder, and...  
“Who the—” Nina whirled around, hands raised, only for them to drop when her eyes met Inej’s. Her face was the same. For some reason or another, that flooded Inej with relief. At least something hadn’t changed. Same striking yet feminine features, like those of a marble statue. Same bright green eyes,which still hadn’t lost their mischievous glimmer, the colour of a Ravkan meadow in the summer. Her peach-pink lips quirked in her typical grin. Come to think of it, she actually looked better than when she’d left.  
“Inej?”  
“In the flesh,” Inej replied, smiling. “I’m not docked for long. You don’t get a lot of time off, doing what I do.” Truth was, you couldn’t afford to. Her work didn’t pay her in food or shelter. While she enjoyed the priceless reward of saving lives, it meant she couldn’t stay anywhere long.  
Nina laughed, a sound Inej hadn’t realized she’d missed until that moment. “Oh, what are the odds? I don’t exactly get a lot of free time, either. We have to celebrate somehow! I think that old waffle place is around here somewhere. And I know Kaz is still around. I’ve already seen him. He said Wylan and Jesper are doing well—”  
“The waffle place is just through that alleyway,” Inej said, pointing. She visited it whenever she docked in Ketterdam, but it’d been a while since she’d had good company to enjoy it with. “Let’s catch up, maybe? Just the two of us.”  
And Nina had no objections to that. When was the last time it’d been just the two of them? When would it be again? “Been a while since I’ve had Ketterdam waffles. I’ve never been able to turn them or you down.”  
Maybe it was the way she’d said it, so light and so teasing and so Nina, but Inej found the sentiment was mutual.  
~  
Sure enough, the waffles were impossible to turn down. As always, the place was busy, but in a way that eased both their nerves. Criminals no longer, it was nice to simply blend in. They were visitors, not the Wraith and Queen of Mourning. Just two young women catching up. They settled down by a window, its tint painting the room sepia. The view was romantic—which is to say, it sat on the third floor, which generously hid most of Ketterdam’s grime and filth. It made sense: watching someone being mugged in an alley didn’t do much for tourism.  
For a good while the two of them dined in comfortable silence. Inevitably though, Nina asked, “So, how’s the past year treated you? Sunk plenty of slavers?”  
“Not enough,” Inej said softly, putting down her fork. “There’re always more of them than of us. More people chasing coin than valiance.” She’d known that going in. You lost count of the leering eyes at places like the Menagerie, lost count of how much they’d spend, how much they’d do to have more to spend.  
“It’s a bold thing to be doing,” Nina agreed. “Priceless, too. How many people do you think you’ve saved?”  
Inej shrugged. “Not enough,” she said again. Those words loomed over just about every aspect of it. “But I’m doing everything I can. And sometimes the people I save decide to join me.”  
Nina blinked. “Immediately?”  
Inej nodded, allowing herself the smallest of smiles. Some days, she couldn’t help but envy them. Even if she’d had the choice, could she have done what they did? Leapt from one boat to another, picking up a sword in the process? So many of them were so young. Sometimes, she felt more like a mother than a captain. When nightmares struck—and they always did—she was the first at the poor child’s bedside, murmuring the reassurance she’d needed a lifetime ago.  
But she always reminded herself it was a good thing. These people, most of them innocent girls like she’d been, had more fight in them than she’d held at their age. It filled her with hope, imagining the saviours they’d become.  
Saints, enough about me, Inej thought. “And what have you been up to, Nina?”  
Nina opened her mouth to answer, but cut short as she spotted a waiter and waved him over. “Could I get a second helping?” she asked, grinning up at him. The waiter stared down at her, a blush painting his cheeks. If Nina noticed, she gave no indication.  
Inej had watched Nina use her beauty as a weapon countless times. And, unlike her Grisha powers, it hadn’t changed. Sure, to some she’d always be Corpsewitch or whatever they’d come to call her. But unlike the bone shards she hurled at her enemies, her looks couldn’t hide under her sleeve.  
It made Inej feel… something. Not quite envy. Something she simply couldn’t place. She’d never cared much for putting her looks on display. Her knives were much more reliable.  
“Anyways, where was I?” Nina chuckled, snapping Inej back to reality. “Right, right. For the most part, I’ve been at the Little Palace. But it sounds like some plans are finally being put into motion!”  
“Plans?” Inej echoed. Was it still that young king Lantsov on the throne? She had a bad feeling about him. Men like that were good at starting trouble.  
“Yes, yes! Oh, I probably shouldn’t be saying anything, but…” She glanced around, as if fearing others would overhear, then leaned closer. “You’re Inej Ghafa. The Wraith. Formerly Kaz’s best spider. Now a badass pirate captain. So I know I can trust you with this.”  
“Of course.” Who would she even tell? Her crewmates? The waves? She bit back a laugh at that: how had that old saying gone? The water hears and understands… She pushed the thought aside. She’d sailed long enough to know the ocean was a wild thing. It didn’t discriminate between sinners and saints, slavers and sinkers. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Nina. I know this is important work.”  
Nina shook her head. “I do want to. We’re covering all our bases with this, more or less. We’re saving Fjerdan Grisha.”  
Inej perked up at that. Though she wasn’t Grisha, she knew what it was like to be hated. She’d been seared by looks of loathing from Ketterdam men for a number of reasons. “There’s a plan?”  
“Yes, and I’m going undercover!” She snickered, as if they were talking about schoolyard crushes and not matters of national security. “Back to Fjerda. And…” Her gaze shifted, and her smile faltered. “I think I’ll finally find somewhere to bury Matthias. So he can rest peacefully, at long last.”  
Matthias. Just like that, it all came rushing back. The water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive. That’s what it’d been. He’d said it, more than a few times, in his stilted Fjerdan accent. “You still… have him?”  
“He wanted to be buried in his homeland, Inej. He deserves it.”  
“But… here?”  
Nina shrugged. “He’s with the rest of my stuff. I can keep him preserved. Corpsewitch and all.” She flared her hands out, for dramatic effect. “Makes it a lot easier, let me tell you.”  
Inej held her tongue. She’d never known quite how to feel about Matthias. He’d grown plenty by the end, but she simply couldn’t understand how Nina had had the patience to lead him there. Nina deserved someone better. Someone who could love her without the turmoil of having to unlearn so much hate.  
Even now, the thought nagged at her. Why?  
You just want the best for your friend, Inej thought. That’s all this is.  
“And what’s after that?” She forced the words out.  
Nina smiled, equally eager to change the subject. “Well, we have means of creating passports to get them on ships to Ravka. From there, it’s just a matter of which refugees can also be recruits.”  
Inej had been following up until approximately the last word. “Recruits?” she echoed.  
If Nina noticed her discomfort, she didn’t comment on it. “Well, you know how it is. In Ravka. The whole… Darkling thing.”  
“Which was resolved, wasn’t it?”  
“Yes, but…” Nina grimaced. “There’re always new tensions on the horizon. Quicker than the country can prepare. Mostly between us and the Shu. I think we’re in a cold war, of sorts?”  
More war. Exactly what all of them needed.  
“Of course.” Inej sighed. She remembered what they’d seen, the kinds of things going on over there. “A cold war, though?”  
Nina shrugged. “You know, because there’s been no actual fighting, but lots of--”  
“I know what a cold war is,” Inej said tightly. “I’m just… surprised you could be a part of this.” Really, she shouldn’t have been. She knew Nina was a military woman. Of course she wouldn’t live the life Inej had chosen, a shadow doling out mercy and justice with the ebb and flow of the tide. It’d been easier to pretend otherwise when they’d been together, all of them, living from one day to the next and no further.  
“I’m saving people, Inej,” Nina insisted.  
“And I’m not?”  
She pinched the bridge of her nose, her lips turned into a frown. “You know that’s not what I mean. I could never, ever mean that. Inej, you’re one of the bravest and strongest people I know. And sometimes I wish I had even half of your strength. But… you also know I love my country.”  
Inej knew that. Inej knew that as well as she knew Nina. For there was no Nina if there was no Ravka for her to fight for. Times changed, but hearts were stubborn.  
But at the same time, she didn’t get it. Knowing and getting were very different things. Maybe it was the way she’d been raised. She had no flag to stand under, for standing meant staying still. Her family hadn’t been one to stand still. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d missed out. After all, Nina was so devoted.  
“I don’t expect you to understand,” Nina went on, as if reading her mind, “and that’s okay! Perfectly fine. We don’t have to agree on everything. I think we have the bare bones down: war is cruel, persecution is cruel, and man’s cruelty is deep as the sea. Which is why I’m doing everything I can to prepare for the worst.”  
And Inej, who’d had a fair amount of experience with both men and the sea, couldn’t disagree with her on that. At this point, the worst felt inevitable. They’d all seen what’d happened at the Ice Court. If things escalated from there…  
“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested gently. “Have you met up with Wylan and Jesper yet?”  
Nina shook her head. “Kaz told me they were doing well, but…”  
“No time to waste, then.” Inej smiled. She tried to see the two when she could, but it wasn’t like she docked in Ketterdam every day. And this would be maybe the first time since everyone left that so many of them were in the same place. She’d seen countless faces in her ventures, but none quite put her at ease like those of her old companions.  
~  
The Van Eck estate was different from what Nina remembered. Of course, to be fair, she didn’t remember much. She was more of a people person than a places person. Sure, the buildings of Ketterdam spoke to some. Inej was probably one of those lucky few who could navigate the city blindfolded. She knew it like the back of her palm, every nook and notch you’d need to get around. And even without sight, Nina just knew she wouldn’t lose her grace.  
Yes, Nina thought, bringing herself back to the moment, I’ve forgotten most of this place. Save for the man who once owned it.  
At least he’d been dealt with. And wouldn’t be bothering anyone else anytime soon.  
Jesper and Wylan had made the place a home. Though the furniture remained on the lavish side, for once it looked lived in. Nina could practically see where the two fell asleep on the couch together, where Jesper toiled away at his studies, where Wylan practiced flute. Sheet music and handwritten notes had found their way into every nook and cranny of the place, and there was a lingering scent of something sweet, one that mingled nicely with the Zemeni tea the four of them were enjoying.  
Besides the waffles, it was the first thing Nina had eaten in a while that held an actual taste. Unfortunately, importing herbs and spices was low on the Ravkan priority list, what with war on the horizon. She tried to show some moderation. Gulping it all down would be like sipping liquid fire, what with it fresh out of the kettle.  
“Business has been good,” Jesper was saying with a grin, “and actually kind of ethical for once. Which is a welcome change. Minus occasionally trading information with our favourite Bastard of the Barrel, I’d say we’re squeaky-clean.” He looked much more at ease than Nina remembered.  
Nina perked up. Maybe, just maybe, this was the closest they’d ever get to getting the gang back together. Just as she thought it, her heart skipped a beat and a pang of grief threatened to swallow her whole. It’d never be all of them again, not really. But Nina didn’t let herself falter. Didn’t let herself droop. She forced herself to look around. Took in everything she could: souvenirs from the couple’s trip to Novyi Zem (which they’d gone on about for ages), furniture older than she was, the smiles on her friends’ faces. And like that, she found her voice again. “You two are still seeing Kaz?”  
“Come to think of it, it’s been a while,” Wylan murmured, stroking his chin. “Unless you’ve met with him while I’m out, Jes?”  
“I’m usually studying when you’re out,” Jesper pointed out, “and we both know it’d take the house catching fire to get my attention when I’m studying.”  
“What’re you majoring in, anyway?” Nina asked.  
Jesper shrugged, suddenly sheepish. “It’s kind of complicated,” he admitted. “I need to redeclare sooner or later, but there’s a lot of work to do. Happens when you drop out and turn to a life of crime for a while. But they’re understanding enough.”  
“So long as you don’t tell them about the life of crime,” Wylan added. “They don’t ask questions if you give them your money.”  
Jesper chuckled. “Thank you for that, Wylan. Optimistic as ever. He’s right, though: little has changed, really. How about the two of you?”  
“I’m doing well enough,” Nina said, and she tried to believe it. Tried not to think about Matthias, who at that moment was dead and rotting beside her luggage like any other corpse. Just so happened this corpse was right next to her nightgowns. “I’ll be headed to Fjerda on a mission for Ravka in the coming weeks, but I thought I’d stop by Ketterdam. I miss it, sometimes.”  
And that much was true. Sure, her days with the Dregs didn’t exactly come with the fondest memories. Sure, they’d been heavy with tension and anxiety of every kind. Sure, it was a miracle she’d survived. But you couldn’t suffer next to someone for so long and not feel attached. The same went for the city they’d suffered in. It was another part of why she was eager to go back to Fjerda, too. Maybe she’d be in a country full of people who hated her, but she couldn’t stay away long, not after everything.  
“Lucky for you, it hasn’t changed much,” Jesper said. “It’s still got its shimmering industries and slimy underbellies. Those probably won’t go anywhere anytime soon.”  
“Sure hope not,” Wylan muttered. “At this point, they need each other. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship.”  
Jesper beamed, reaching an arm around Wylan’s shoulders. “That’s definitely one way to put it, huh? As usual, it gets more depressing the more you think about it. Good thing there’re so many other things to think about! Like, what’s your mission in Fjerda?”  
“I’ll be going undercover to rescue Grisha,” Nina said, smiling. This time, she just left it at that. The last thing she needed was more judgement. And the more she thought about it, the sadder it sounded. They were, really, doing little more than herding people from certain death to a slightly less certain death. While Nina was more than proud to die for Ravka if it came to that, she doubted that sentiment would be shared. “And before you ask, yes, I’ll probably be going blonde.”  
“I can see it already.”  
“Do I pull it off?”  
“Absolutely.”  
Inej chuckled, a sound that took Nina by surprise but definitely wasn’t unwelcome. Back in the day, such sounds had been fleeting, like trying to smell the roses during a stampede. “That’s all it takes to blend in over there?” Inej asked.  
“Pretty much,” Nina said with a shrug. “I might have a bit of extra tailoring done on my face, but nothing too severe.”  
“That’s brave,” Wylan remarked. “Tried it once. Wasn’t great. I… prefer having my own face. And don’t plan on getting it tailored anytime soon.”  
Jesper patted his lover’s cheek. “Nothing to tailor, Wy.”  
And again, Nina held herself back. It stung, seeing the two so happy.  
Mercifully, the pain ebbed. Probably helped that she was with friends. People who’d been there.  
What was it they’d always said?  
No mourners, no funerals.  
It couldn’t be further from the truth. A part of her would always mourn, and his funeral was closer than ever. But so long as she was on Ketterdam’s streets, and so long as her friends were there to quell her, she’d keep strong.  
“Some things never change,” Inej murmured. Nina saw the way she smiled at the boys’ affection, and did her best to mimic it.  
“I’m glad you two found each other,” she said without thinking. “You seem really happy together.”  
“We are,” Wylan said. Then he faltered. Like everyone else always did, when they remembered. Sorrow shadowed his smile, and his face creased into that half-pitying, half-apologetic look Nina knew all too well. “Nina, I really am sorry about Matthias, but one day--”  
She raised a hand to cut him off. “I’ve heard it all already, Wylan. But thank you.”  
“Oh.” He switched to a look of utter bafflement. “Um, alright. So, rescuing Grisha from Fjerda. That’s really noble.”  
With the subject change, a weight lifted from Nina’s shoulders, from her heart. She felt a bit more like herself. “I wouldn’t call it that. Just doing what I can for my people and strengthening my country in the process.” She allowed herself some relief when no one raised a brow at that. After all, strength came in many forms. While Nina loved being a soldier, she knew that the farmers and tradesmen did just as much for Ravka as she did, in their own ways. It just so happened that she had the honour of being on the front lines. “After this, though, I might give myself a break. Acclimate to normal life, just for a moment.”  
“It really isn’t so bad,” Jesper said coolly. He nodded to the nearest wall, where his prized revolvers lay under a glass frame. Pinned there, like butterflies on display. “I sometimes miss the old days, but hey, I’m probably going to live a long life. That’s pretty neat. And I take them out when I can. Can’t get rusty as long as I’m living here.”  
“They must make a fun conversation piece,” Inej remarked.  
“You have no idea.” He turned to her now, eyes bright. “So, how’s it been killing slavers?”  
Inej shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “It’s satisfying work, I’ll admit. Even if it’s never over.”  
“Maybe someday.”  
But Inej didn’t have anything to say to that, just shaking her head ever so slightly.  
It stung, seeing her like that. Suddenly aware of the monumental task she’d taken on.  
“If anyone can end it, it’s Inej,” Nina cut in before she could stop herself. “For every slaver she sinks, ten girls join her crew, wanting nothing more than to save others from the fate they narrowly escaped. It’s one of the bravest things you could ever do. One day, they’ll outnumber those monsters.”  
Inej gave her a look that was half gratitude, half bafflement. It was clear in her eyes that she hadn’t expected someone to defend her so boldly. To be frank, Nina had surprised herself in the process. She had no idea she was so passionate about… well, someone else’s mission.  
But when Inej broke into a full smile, Nina realized where all that fire had come from. Realized there and then she’d burn down a fleet of ships if it meant seeing her happy.  
That was what friends were for, right?  
For the briefest of moments, Nina entertained the idea of there being something beyond their passionate friendship. It flitted by like a lone snowflake in a Fjerdan wind, the thought of holding Inej’s hand, pushing a strand of her sleek dark hair behind her ear…  
What is wrong with you? hissed a voice in the back of her head. Matthias isn’t even in the ground yet. You couldn’t have room for love if you tried. How could you even consider such a thing?  
And that voice was right. It was selfish, for everyone involved. How dare she subject herself to that, when she still wasn’t sure if she’d ever love again? And how dare she even consider bringing Inej into such a thing, when the poor girl had enough on her plate already? It’d be leading her on, doing it now. It’d be pulling her close, only to push her away and leave her again. “You’re… really supportive lately,” Inej said, drawing her back into the moment. She was still looking at her. Her lips still quirked into a smile. “And I appreciate it. So thank you, Nina.”  
You can’t do this to her, Nina thought. She forced a grin of her own and said, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t know when I’ll see you next, so I might as well gush as much as possible now. You deserve it.”  
Oh, Saints, why wasn’t anyone stopping her? She was making an utter fool of herself, talking like this. She felt around for a subject change, her eyes darting about the room. “So. Jesper, Wylan, what do you two have planned for the rest of the day?”  
“The usual,” Jesper said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Wylan and I will make and eat dinner, clean up, and then I’ll study and he’ll practice flute. It’s a nice routine.”  
Wylan beamed, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s. “Jes says it helps him focus. Which never made sense to me, but his brain’s quirky like that.”  
“And you love every single one of these quirks,” Jesper replied, kissing his cheek. “I wouldn’t be the man you’re marrying without them.”  
Nina choked on her tea, snatching a napkin from the table. Beside her, Inej’s eyes were wide as an owl’s.  
“Marrying?” they echoed in unison.  
Wylan blinked. “I thought you guys knew. We got engaged… a month ago, I think?”  
“The 22nd, yes,” Jesper confirmed with a nod.  
And then Inej lit up. “Is that why you were asking me about what metal went best with Wylan’s eyes, last time I was here?”  
In response, Wylan raised a hand. Sure enough, a glimmering silver band coiled around his ring finger. Nina squinted and saw WJ engraved into it.  
“I’m getting pretty good at this Fabrikator thing, huh?” Jesper said with a laugh. “And yes, Inej, that’s why. I think I did pretty well, but Wy’s still the artist of this relationship.”  
Wylan scoffed. “You made me an engagement ring, Jes. One that won’t melt or degrade, no matter what kind of experiment I do with it on. That’s incredible.”  
It was, Nina thought. That twinge of envy came back, and she pushed it down. Tried to see the beauty in the sight before her. After all, what said love more than a gift that would never crack or corrode?  
“When’s the wedding?” Nina asked, her voice ever so slightly strained. Did they know how lucky they were? They couldn’t not. No one else had escaped this madness with a home to return to and a hand to lovingly guide them there.  
“This summer,” Jesper replied, “but plans are already underway. We’ll find a courthouse with a minimally skeevy history, and then be swept away on a Zemeni honeymoon. We went there for our anniversary, and it was nice. Right, Wy?”  
Wylan nodded, smiling at him. “It was beautiful,” he breathed. “I didn’t think places like that still existed. It’s so pretty. And so productive without… how do I put this...”  
“Looking like Ketterdam?” Jesper finished.  
Wylan’s chuckled. “Not what I had in mind, but I guess you aren’t wrong. Ketterdam is… well… it’s Ketterdam. The kind of city where men try to drown their sons if they aren’t good enough, if we aren’t... “ He faltered, cutting himself off. Then he sighed. “I try to like living here. Really, I do.”  
“Good thing there’re people like you making it a better place,” Jesper said gently. “I’m surprised you’re still here, surrounded by papers with your father’s name on them.”  
“It’s because I can’t read it,” Wylan deadpanned.  
Inej choked on a laugh. Jesper did his best not to join in. Nina didn’t bother to hide her grin. At least, somehow, these two had kept their humour after everything. Probably at least in part because they’d had each other.  
The envy was back. Nina chased it down with another sip of Zemeni tea, but it crawled up her throat, starved and insistent.  
“I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice tight. She stood abruptly, and looked to Jesper. “Where’s, uh, the washroom?”  
“First door on your right,” he replied. “You okay?”  
“Peachy.” The word came out through gritted teeth. She strode on stiff legs, not even bothering to summon up her usual glamour and grace. It was lost to her.  
As soon as she was out of earshot, Inej murmured, “It’s probably still so fresh to her.”  
“What?” Jesper turned to her. And then it hit him. “Matthias. Oh, Saints.” You could see him processing it. Jesper, who knew as well as anyone that grief didn’t end when the body was buried. Knew it was something that never really left, only shrank, except for those days when it grew and consumed you. No, burial was only the beginning.  
Inej said quietly, “She hasn’t even buried him yet.”  
It was Wylan’s turn to choke on his tea. “W-What? Where is he, then? Is she just… taking his body everywhere?” He laughed nervously.  
“Yes,” Inej said flatly.  
“Oh. Oh, dear.”  
~  
Oh, dear was about the same thing going through Nina’s head as she splashed water on her face from the sink. This never happened. At least, it never used to happen. Before all this, she’d loved love. Every form of it. From the light flirtations to the passionate embraces, whether with men or women, whether hers or someone else’s. Now just the sight made her sick.  
Then someone knocked at the door.  
Nina jumped, switching off the faucet. “Um, I’m still in here.”  
“I know.” Jesper’s voice. “But when you’re ready, do you want to talk?”  
Nina hesitated. To be honest, she wasn’t sure. What would that look like? How much did he know? He’d always been perceptive, more than people gave him credit for. She’d appreciated it back in her days as a Dreg. A friend with a gun was great, but a friend armed with well-timed quips was more or less priceless.  
“Sure,” she said, quietly. “Sure.” On numb legs she ambled towards the door, cracking it open. “You’ve correctly deduced I’m not my usual, glowing self. Want a cookie for that?”  
He smiled at her, but it was laced with something like pity. “You look like you’d do more good from a cookie than me.”  
“Maybe later.” She didn’t trust herself to eat. That, maybe more than anything else, was a damn good indicator she was in shambles.  
And Jesper, as usual, noticed. “Nina, about Matthias—”  
“It’s fine,” she said, though they both knew fine had left the premises long ago. “Just… hard. You know?”  
“I know. Inej told me you haven’t even buried him.”  
Nina didn’t even have the energy to be upset about it. “He’ll be laid to rest in his homeland. I get there in a couple of weeks, for my mission.”  
“Are you in any shape to…” He trailed off when Nina gave him a look. “I don’t know if it’s really healthy to leap back into action so soon after letting him go. You’ve been holding on for so long, too.”  
“What am I supposed to do, Jesper?” Nina retorted. “I loved him. Imagine if it’d been Wylan with that bullet through him. Imagine if it’d been Wylan we’d lost, and you came here a year later to me and him—” She stopped herself, just for a second. It was hard to say his name. It caught in her throat. “If it was me and him happily engaged, just a reminder of what you could’ve had, and never will have.”  
“You don’t know that you’ll never love again, Nina.”  
And she knew he had a point. She knew that, logically, she was still young. Very young. Most people didn’t fall in love at eighteen and stay there. Saints, did she even know for sure that she and Matthias would’ve worked out? It certainly hadn’t been the most conventional of courtships…  
But to love someone else felt like a betrayal. He’d never move on, so how could she? And besides that…  
“I’m scared of loving again,” Nina whispered. “What if they leave me, too? What if she dies—”  
“She?” Jesper echoed.  
Nina bit back a curse. “She, he, they, you never know. I can go any which way.”  
“As can I. I’m not judging, just… curious.” And already, the gears were turning in his brain. Damn Jesper. Too smart. “There’s a girl on your mind, isn’t there?”  
“Jesper.”  
“Someone back home in Ravka, I assume?” he guessed.  
Nina shook her head. “No. Seriously, can we cut it out?”  
“Is it Inej?”  
And there was no need for her to answer, because Jesper saw the way she faltered. Like he’d struck her through the heart.  
But she answered anyway. “Whether or not it’s Inej, I’m taking these feelings with a grain of salt. I can’t reach out. Not so soon.”  
“So, it is Inej.”  
Nina groaned. “What does it matter? I’m not doing anything about it.”  
“You don’t have to ask Kaz for his blessing or anything.” Jesper said lightly, trying to fix the mood. Straining to fix it. “He’s moved on.”  
And somehow, that was what snapped her out of her spiral. “Wait, what? He moved on? From Inej?”  
“It has been a year,” Jesper pointed out. “He knew she was going somewhere he couldn’t follow, because that meant leaving, and you know Kaz. This is his home, in some twisted way. It moulded him into...”  
“Dirtyhands Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, I get it.” Nina had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course Kaz hadn’t changed. This life really was all he knew. “It’s still so strange to think about, I guess.”  
“Last I heard, he got wrapped up in this rumour that a storm took her ship. He probably compartmentalized it accordingly then stabbed a guy to keep the feelings down. But after that, yeah, he moved on.”  
Despite it all, Nina chuckled. It was strange, being in a Ketterdam where Kaz Brekker wasn’t head over heels for his Wraith. Like being in Fjerda without snow, or Ravka without the Little Palace.  
Except she also felt a twinge of hope, deep in her heart. If things were different, then maybe...  
“Are you two still friends, at least?” she asked, hoping it’d put the thoughts at bay.  
Jesper shrugged. “To be honest, I think Wylan sees him more than I do. I’m busy with school, and now that he and I don’t have much work together, we’ve drifted apart.”  
With every word he spoke, it hit Nina harder that the old times had fallen away. Gone were the days of stress and scheming, but also those fun times in between. Those brief, fleeting moments where they were a bunch of teenagers. Sure, they were teenagers who’d broken into the Ice Palace and pulled off countless other incredible stunts, but they’d found time in between that to be young.  
At least, they’d tried. Nina remembered teasing Kaz about his hair, or doing her best to make Inej smile, or lounging with Jesper after a mission. And oh, the endless jokes she’d flung at Matthias...  
All of it had been a mirage, of sorts. One to cover the things they’d done to get to where they stood.  
I’m way too old to have killed this many people, Nina thought. The matter-of-fact way it dawned on her only frightened her more.  
“Nina?” Jesper murmured, waving a hand in front of her face. “Are you in there?”  
“Probably,” Nina replied, catching him by the fingers. Somewhere under all this grief, there must be the girl I was before. “We were just kids, Jesper. Do you ever think about how messed up that is?”  
Jesper shrugged. Even now, he was so calm. Sure, he was fidgety. But he had his shit together. “I can’t imagine what it was like for some of you,” he admitted. “It was unfair losing my mom, but Kaz lost everything. And you… never had parents in the first place, really.”  
“That never affected me,” Nina said, simultaneously wondering if it’d maybe affected her. “Besides the whole orphanage thing, I had a normal enough childhood.”  
“Weren’t you legally property of the king?”  
Nina bit her tongue. Again with all that. Why did every non-Ravkan take it so literally? It wasn’t like the king had taken her by the hair and chained her up in a dungeon. “Saints, Jesper, it’s a bit more complicated than that. The law only exists so we’re put through the Little Palace and taught how to control our powers. Is that not preferable to the alternative?” She was almost shouting by the last word.  
“I lived with the alternative,” Jesper pointed out, “and I ended up fine. Once I started using my powers again, that is. I didn’t need to go to a fancy school. Back home in Novyi Zem, we just… learned, you know? My mom taught me some stuff, other Grisha taught me some stuff, and a lot of it I did on my own.”  
Briefly, Nina wondered what would’ve happened, had that been her. People had always joked about how it was good the Little Palace had found her when they did. How otherwise, she probably would’ve gone off and stopped the heart of everyone she crossed paths with, whether with a dazzling smile or a literal clogging of the valves. She’d always seen the Little Palace as a saving grace, a place that set her down the right path. The idea that it hadn’t been necessary, that she’d lost something when it’d taken her in… it made her tighten, like something had clamped around her ribs.  
“We’re getting off-topic,” she blurted out.  
“Right. The topic of Inej.”  
No, no, no. “I really don’t know why this matters, Jesper.” It was a lie, but a gentle one. One that’d become truth soon enough. Because once she was out of Ketterdam, she’d corner these feelings and quash them. “What do you even expect me to do?”  
Jesper contemplated this for maybe a second. “Well, if I were you, I’d shoot my shot.”  
Nina gawked at him. “Do you know what’s at stake? This could ruin our friendship, make me look like a fool, and…” She trailed off. I’m not used to being turned down, she thought. And while she knew better than to say it, it was one of her larger fears. Sure, she’d faced hardship. But she’d never been turned down like this.  
And Matthias, oh Matthias. Still he lingered in her mind, her heart, her very being. She had yet to bury that pain, to bury that longing. Even physically.  
“You probably won’t be running into her again anytime soon,” Jesper pointed out. “And I’m not telling you to court her with a bouquet of roses and love ballad. You can just… flirt with her.” He smiled, almost wistfully. “I didn’t start teasing Wylan with the thought I’d get down on one knee two years later.”  
Nina could flirt. Absolutely, Nina could flirt. It came to her as easy as her powers did, with the added bonus of not centering around death and decay. In fact, it made her feel alive, wrapping someone around her finger like that. Oftentimes all it took was a smile or a batting of the eyelashes, and they were ensnared.  
People thought she didn’t notice. But how couldn’t she? Even if she couldn’t feel every heartbeat skip around her anymore, she felt it in the ways they looked at her.  
“Maybe,” she murmured. “I’m a damn good flirt. But what if she doesn’t like girls?”  
“Then frankly, she’s missing out.”  
Nina slumped a bit at that. “Really, Jesper, it’s just a stupid crush that’ll probably fade—”  
“So no harm, right?” Jesper said. “If she’s straight, she won’t even notice. And if she doesn’t notice, eventually you can move on.”  
“And what if she… does?” It was strange to even fathom. Because sure, her feelings weren’t as obvious, but the idea of her loving anyone but Kaz was bewildering. Nina remembered how Inej had reacted, back when she’d told her about his feelings. About what parem had revealed, about the way his heart skipped when he looked at her.  
Inej’s had done the same.  
Besides that, did Nina really deserve someone so incredible? So clever, so resilient? And Inej did dangerous work. Could she handle another loss, another piece of her torn away?  
Jesper rolled his eyes. “I know this isn’t your first time, but okay. If she notices and declines, you stop and stay friends. If she notices and returns… well, that’s good. Or maybe it isn’t because you’ve moved on. I don’t know, but my point is, just… do it, you know?”  
“I’ll consider it.” She swallowed her fear. “Thanks, Jesper. Sorry for confiding in you on a whim like this. I owe you one.”  
He beamed back. “Maybe you can help me with my biology paper. Then we’ll call it even.”  
~  
By the time Jesper and Nina had returned to the living room, the tea was long gone and Inej and Wylan were chattering about something else entirely.  
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Inej allowed, “but really, Wylan, you don’t have to do this.”  
“I wasn’t using them anyway,” Wylan pressed.  
Before Nina could ask, Jesper stepped forward, helping Wylan to his feet. “Is this about the flutes?”  
“Flutes?” Nina echoed. “As in, plural?”  
“He didn’t know which colour to get me, so he bought out a shop’s worth,” Wylan deadpanned. “It was our first paycheck. He was… gifty. Which is to say, he was feeling impulsive. I didn’t know people celebrated their eighteen-month anniversary.”  
Jesper scoffed, bringing a hand to his heart as if Wylan had insulted his parents. “I thought a bouquet of flutes was a great gift! How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t want one in every colour? I thought it’d be aesthetically pleasing.”  
“They do look nice on the wall,” Wylan admitted, “but what if I gave them to people who’d actually… use them? Because really, Jes, I only needed the one.”  
Jesper blinked. His eyes darted to Inej, who only shrugged. “You’re… giving them to Inej?”  
“Inej’s girls, specifically. Music always makes me feel better, after all. In fact, I’ll go get them right away.” He spun on his heel and was off without another word.  
Nina looked at Jesper, holding back her laughter. “A bouquet of flutes?”  
“I panicked,” he admitted. “They reminded me of him.”  
Inej stood, joining them. “What were you two doing down the hall?”  
“Talking about his biology paper,” Nina said, nudging Jesper in the side. “Looks like he wants a second opinion, so I’ll be taking it back with me.”  
Jesper was nodding along until he looked down and realized he was empty-handed. “Right, right. I’ll be right back with a copy.” He slunk off without another word, nearly bumping into Wylan as the other boy emerged with an arm full of flutes. Sure enough, they came in a variety of metallic hues: silver, bronze, gold, rust. Like medals, each a prize of its own.  
“Saints,” Inej breathed. “Are you sure I can have all these?”  
“Music raises morale,” Wylan said, handing her the armful. Inej briefly faltered under the weight, her hands scrambling to balance them all. “And you guys need all the morale you can get, doing what you do. Plus, it’s a great way to spend the time. I don’t imagine there’s much to do on the open seas.”  
Inej managed a smile. It was bittersweet how estranged they’d already become. Like their life of crime had been a mere fever dream. Maybe, one day, she’d retire to such a life. “Once we’re done catching fish, cleaning the deck, adjusting the sails, preparing food, training our newest members, and the occasional ship sinking, we can try.” When he stammered out the beginnings of an apology, she laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Wylan. I really appreciate it. We’ll be the first flute quartet on international waters.”  
“We’ll swim on over to your first concert!” Jesper chimed in as he returned, papers in hand. He passed them to Nina, grinning. “Now you have to come back for a proper goodbye.”  
“Was that your ploy all along?” Inej teased.  
“Well, that and the fact I really need to pass this class. It’s the only one I’m not acing.” A mischievous smile played on his lips. “My prof and I had a bit of a disagreement. Turns out the textbooks here are a bit behind on Grisha biology and how it’s studied in Novyi Zem.”  
Wylan groaned. “Please don’t tell me you made the lecture into a debate.”  
“It wasn’t a debate. I raised my hand, calmly explained my disagreement, and that was that,” Jesper said. Then his grin faltered, like his mind was processing something horrible behind the scenes. “You don’t think he hates me now, do you?”  
“No one could hate you, Jes,” Wylan assured him. “And if he does, we can get Kaz to find dirt on him.”  
“There’s a mountain’s worth, trust me,” Jesper muttered. He clapped his hands together. “Anyways!Where are you two staying?”  
Inej shrugged. “I was going to find somewhere cheap and near the docks. I’ll be back on the water soon, after all.”  
“Why don’t you stay with me?” Nina offered with a grin. “They gave me two beds by accident. Almost like it’s fate.”  
“Maybe.” Inej pondered fate plenty. And she did want to spend more time with Nina. After all, who knew when it would happen again? “Is it near here?”  
Nina nodded. “About twenty minutes or so, I think. Shall we?” She held out her arm playfully.  
Inej took it, thinking little of the gesture. Nina had always been the teasing type. Maybe it was a trick of the eye, but suddenly she looked rather flushed. “Are you alright?”  
“I’m fine,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at Inej. No, she was looking at Jesper. Brows knit, forehead creased, like she’d lost some secret bet against him. Jesper, meanwhile, looked absolutely merry. “Let’s go. See you guys in a day or two.”  
“Don’t have too much fun,” Jesper murmured.  
And while Nina’s glare intensified, Inej decided it was better to not ask questions. The two of them had always been twin jokesters back in the day, egging each other on or double-teaming Kaz. It was one of the few things she’d missed. When was the last time she’d genuinely laughed?  
“We’ll see you before we leave,” Inej reminded them.  
~  
By the time they’d finished their goodbyes, it was sunset. The walk to the hotel, theoretically, could’ve taken twenty minutes. Of course, they hadn’t accounted for the wayward path nostalgia could take you down. They had a good chuckle over that one alley where Nina had tripped on some ice, cringed at where a particularly unlucky Dreg had been found with his tongue torn out by a rival gang. By the time they’d arrived, the sun had long set, dusky twilight fading to black.  
The hotel Nina had picked out was perfectly mediocre, toeing the line between pleasantly quaint and distinctly cramped. Of course, Inej was intimately familiar with cramped spaces. Two beds lay side by side, divided by twin nightstands. A painting of Ketterdam rested above them. Even the most romantic framing of the city kept its dreary hues, like the clouds that’d made their home overhead.  
At least they’re honest with themselves, Inej thought. In a strange way, though, the muddy greys were welcome. They were vastly preferable to the pitch-black storm clouds they’d been getting on the seas all season.  
Nina watched her eyes flicker about, taking it all in. “I know it’s not the best, but…”  
“It’s bigger than my cabin,” Inej assured her, “and it’ll be nice sleeping on land. We probably won’t get thrown around like children’s toys.”  
“Is the water rough this time of year?” Nina asked, sitting down.  
Inej joined her. The blankets were feather-soft. Probably Grisha-made; people got pretty crafty in making their rooms cozier. “It can be, especially when you’re far from land. We’ve never had anything serious, but many nights I’ve had to reassure the girls we aren’t in any danger.” Her fingers traced the blanket stitchings, almost unconsciously, like they followed a path. “Well, not from that.”  
“Mm.” A dark look shadowed Nina’s face. “I’m sure they know plenty about the other dangers.”  
“I wish they didn’t. I wish they’d been allowed to be young,” Inej said softly. “I try to give them that. We tell stories, we play games, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”  
“It’s more than enough,” Nina assured her. “Want me to hang your coat up?”  
Inej shucked it off in one fluid movement. It’d been quite restricting, anyway. “Thanks.”  
“Of course,” Nina said, beaming. She took the coat and cracked open the closet.  
And that was when Inej noticed the human-sized shape leaning against the wall. It’d been wrapped up in white, and Nina was careful not to touch it. Like it was fragile and would crumble if she did. Like it was the most precious thing in the world. She looked at it briefly. A sad smile flashed across her face, brief as the sun in the dead of winter.  
Inej opened her mouth to say something, but Nina beat her to it. “It’s only until I can take him home. You… don’t think that’s crazy, do you?”  
Anyone else, and she would’ve. But she’d seen the way grief had torn Nina apart inside and out. She carried herself differently, in little ways. There was the illusion of that grace and charm that’d made her stand out, made her… herself. But much like her powers, it’d decayed somehow. She was still there, but something was gone.  
“Of course not,” Inej murmured. “Everyone grieves differently.”  
“I swear there won’t be a smell,” Nina blurted out. “I’ve kept him expertly preserved. One advantage of this… new power.” She flexed her hands for emphasis. “I’ll close the closet, if that makes it easier.”  
“Yeah,” Inej said. What else could she say? Of course it was easier to sleep if she wasn’t looking at Nina’s boyfriend’s corpse. “Y-Yeah.” She’s just taking him home, she reminded herself. If she’d had a home to go to, she would’ve preferred to be buried there, too. And what was the alternative? Some sad cemetery in Ketterdam? The man would never rest somewhere like that. Probably haunt everyone.  
Nina slid the door shut. “What do you say we just… rest for a while? We don’t get a lot of time to rest, do we? Being working women, and all.”  
“I suppose we don’t,” Inej admitted. When she wasn’t steering the ship, she was sinking other ships. When she wasn’t sinking ships, she was consoling her girls over what they’d lost. When she wasn’t consoling people, she was overseeing the chores. “I can’t remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep.”  
“It’s an underrated experience.” Nina chuckled, easing onto the bed beside her. They were inches apart, an unspoken boundary, one they hadn’t had before. Was it just that of two friends who weren’t quite used to seeing each other again? Or something more? “Honestly, at the end of the day, a woman needs nothing more than delicious food and a good night’s rest. Just so happens that these things come with good company.” She winked. Inej struggled to ignore the way it made her heart flutter like a caged bird. She was just happy to see her friend again.  
“You’ve been good company,” Inej said, bringing a hand to Nina’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re going back to Fjerda. You won’t find either of those things there.”  
“But maybe I’ll find peace.”  
And while Inej couldn’t agree, she knew better than to voice her doubts. The poor woman had been through enough.  
At the same time, though, she couldn’t help but ask. “And after that?”  
Nina blinked, as if Inej had presented her with some kind of unsolvable puzzle. “What do you mean, after that?”  
“Where are you going to go after Fjerda?”  
This just made her falter more. “There’s… no way of knowing. What are you going to do when you’re done killing slavers? Lend the ship off to someone else?”  
“You say that like the world will run out of terrible men. We both know better.” Inej glanced down at her hands, like their callouses would offer some answer, something besides the constant reminder she was working herself to the bone. “And there isn’t really anyone else. After a while, everyone wants to go home to their families. I get that. I try to see my parents every once in a while, especially after losing them for so long. But… I’m scared of putting them in danger.”  
It was true she wasn’t the Wraith anymore. But she’d become something bigger. And worse, she was something people could see. She was a blaze on the ocean, one that burned anyone who got too close. For better or worse. And the last thing she wanted was to engulf her family in those flames.  
She almost missed the invisibility.  
“Oh, Inej,” Nina murmured. She put her hand over Inej’s, which hadn’t moved from her shoulder. She scooted forward. Filled the space between them. “That’s your problem. You don’t have a home you feel safe going to.”  
“Not yet,” Inej said. Then, changing the subject with all the grace of the thieves that used to try and fail to chase her, she asked, “Are you tired? I’m tired.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly, like a slip on a frosted rooftop.  
“We can sleep, if you want.” Nina must’ve noticed Inej’s discomfort, but thankfully didn’t comment on it. “You want that bed? I’m not choosy.”  
Inej barely heard her over the storm of her own thoughts. “Sure.” A home you feel safe going to. Would she ever have that? Somewhere she wasn’t protecting something, or someone?  
She let her head rest on the softest pillow it’d felt in years. “Goodnight, Nina. And thank you.”  
“Goodnight, Inej. And really, I don’t mind.”  
~  
The tang of smoke drew Inej from her sleep. That and the telltale rock of waves. The floor beneath her rose and fell, rose and fell, like the chest of a sleeping beast.  
Inej stumbled at first as she crawled out of bed, but steadied herself. This had been her life for a long time. The ocean was a tricky thing, but she no longer struggled to keep up. She knew it like an old friend.  
Probably just some food left on the stove, she thought. The new girls are always so careless with that. Especially Alya.  
Alya was barely fifteen. Her hands got shaky whenever someone got too close. And still, she insisted on taking any chore she could. Like she was trying to prove she belonged. The poor girl didn’t listen no matter how many times Inej assured her that she was doing enough. She was like a frightened little rabbit, still ready to bound off at a moment’s notice.  
“I-Inej?”  
Sure enough, that was her high, tremulous voice, just outside the door. Inej sighed. “Don’t worry, Alya, I’m coming.”  
She opened the door, and the first thing she registered was the light. The wood beneath her feet bore almost the same cedar hue it would at high noon. Just a bit darker, and a bit redder. Foggy, somehow, like she saw it through a veil.  
She didn’t register the fire until it’d hit her other senses. The slow yet frantic crackling, the reek of burning sails, the cloying warmth…  
Inej felt like she was in the furnace again. Walls were closing in, and the heat soared, and--  
“Inej?”  
Alya stood before her. Inej blinked; she’d almost forgotten. The girl looked unhurt, save for a gash on her forehead. Blood dripped into her eye.  
“Alya,” Inej rasped. “Where are the other girls?” She reached for her knives.  
But as her eyes adjusted to the smoke, the answers came on their own. Bodies littered the deck. Familiar bodies. There was Piper, who’d just celebrated six months of freedom, her dainty hands still clutching a sword, her red curls torn from their usual delicate braid. Next to her lay Freja, the stocky blonde who’d always found something to laugh at, her face forever contorted into a mask of fear.  
And there, slumped against the mast, was Hepza. Poor little Hepza. Inej had seen so much of herself in her. From the way she slunk about like a shadow to her long, dark waves of hair that she always kept tied back.  
Then Hepza’s eyes fluttered open. “Alya, get the first aid kit.” Inej raced forward, her chest aflutter with something almost like hope.  
“Inej,” Hepza rasped. Inej fell to her knees at the girl’s side. “You’re here.”  
“I am, I am.” Immediately, Inej spotted the wound. A crimson stain bloomed on the poor girl’s shirt, stark against its white. “What happened?”  
“They followed us here from Ravka,” Hepza explained, her words slurred, her eyes glazed with pain. “Ever since we stopped to visit your parents.”  
Inej’s heart stopped. Saints, this was her fault. Her girls were dead because she’d left a trail. “They told you that?”  
Hepza let out a long, rattling sigh. “They did.”  
“And my parents, they’re…” Inej trailed off. She didn’t want the answer. Couldn’t bear to hear what she already knew was true. “No, no, no.”  
It hit all at once, and suddenly all Inej could feel was the ocean beneath her, merciless in how it tossed her ship about. With nothing else to do, Inej crumpled to the floor and prayed for the waves to devour them.  
That was when she woke up. Her eyes flew open and for a moment, she forgot where she was. This wasn’t her ship. Where were her girls? Dead, or worse, taken?  
Slowly, the room came into focus.  
Right. She was on land. In a hotel. In Ketterdam.  
And next to her lay Nina Zenik. Probably sound asleep. Inej risked a glance to her left and, sure enough, Nina snored softly.  
She sighed. She’d been on a good streak, when it came to nightmares. She’d gotten used to waking up without the fear, without the pain, without the scream caught in her throat.  
It was probably being back in Ketterdam. Especially this part of Ketterdam. The Menagerie was, what, ten minutes away?  
She’d almost come to terms with the whole thing, as much as one could. It’d helped, recounting it to the girls. Like telling the story made it nothing more than that: a story. Something to bind and shelve and never look at again.  
But now it was real again. She could walk to it if she wanted to.  
Nothing to gain from that, she reminded herself. Just breathe. Maybe splash some water on your face. That’ll help.  
Inej slunk from her bed and cracked the bathroom door open. It was a modest setup, with a sink against one wall and a shower against the other.  
I need to leave. But then I’ll have to be the leader again. I don’t know if I can handle that on my own.  
She’d never meant to become a leader. In so many ways it was thrilling. In so many ways it felt like fate had led her there for a reason. But would it always be so frightening? Would she always struggle to stay calm during the nightly headcounts on her ship?  
The water ran in a sad trickle, but Inej made do. She pooled it into cupped hands. Blinked back tears.  
I’m just a girl, at the end of the day.  
Just as she lifted them to her face, she heard a yelp from the other room.  
Inej jumped, splashing water all over the sink. Her mind, as it’d been honed to do, went to the worst possible place: she’d been tracked here, by someone with a grudge.  
But when she threw open the bathroom door, it was only Nina, curled up at the foot of her bed. Tears flowed down her cheeks.  
“Hey,” she murmured. “Sorry. Had a nightmare.”  
“You too?” Inej sat down beside her, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder.  
“About Matthias.” She tensed at Inej’s touch. “You don’t have to comfort me, you know. You’ve been through a lot.”  
That was true. They both knew it. But Inej found she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Didn’t I say I owed you a life debt, way back when?”  
“You might’ve,” Nina admitted. “It already feels like so long ago. But seriously, Inej, you have enough going on. You should prioritize yourself.”  
“You haven’t exactly done that either,” Inej pointed out coolly. “You put Ravka before yourself.” And a corpse right behind that, she thought but didn’t say.  
Nina shook her head. “It’s not like I have anything else,” she replied, her voice low.  
“You could,” Inej blurted out before she could stop herself. Already, she could see it: the two of them climbing aboard her ship, bringing armfuls of genuine Ketterdam snacks and souvenirs. Standing at the bow of her ship and watching the sunset. Together. And when they had nightmares, they could find comfort in the arms of each other.  
Now or never, Inej. Why had this kind of talk been so much easier with Kaz? Why did all of this feel more… real?  
“Join me. On my ship. I… want you to be with me.” I don’t want to be alone, she kept herself from adding. I need someone to go to in the middle of the night. And I want it to be you.  
Nina blinked. Tears twinkled in her eyes, gold in the light of sunrise. “You don’t want me the way I want you.”  
“What way is that?” Inej strained to keep her voice even, but a flicker of hope broke through.  
“I think I’m in love with you, Inej Ghafa.”  
The world went silent. Inej could’ve sworn she heard her own heart beating. “Oh,” she breathed. “Thank the Saints. I thought I was the only one.”  
“What?” Nina’s voice wobbled. “B-But I can’t be in love with you. Matthias isn’t even buried yet—”  
“Then we’ll bury him,” Inej assured her. “We can take a detour to Fjerda, and find the best place to lay him to rest.”  
Nina hastily wiped her face with her sleeve. “You don’t have to.”  
“No one will mind, okay?” Inej smiled. “The girls are going to love you. I’ve told so many stories.”  
“About me?”  
“About you. The gorgeous, clever Ravkan Grisha who wreaked utter havoc on the Ice Court.”  
Nina chuckled. “I told everyone back home about you, too. The beautiful, resilient spy who we wouldn’t have survived without.”  
Then Inej did something daring. Slowly, shakily, she lifted her hand to rest on Nina’s cheek. Even that sent a rush through her. Both of them flinched at the other’s touch. Inej drew back. “I… I’m sorry.” She wiped a tear from her eye. Even now, it was too much. “I’m sorry that I can’t--”  
“We’ll work our way up there,” Nina assured her. “It’ll just take time. For now, I…” She managed a nervous laugh. “I can’t wait to meet your shipmates. I hope they like me.”  
“They will. What’s not to love?”  
The two of them joined hands. That much came easily. The rest would take time, but both of them knew the other was willing.  
~  
Hand in hand, they boarded the ship. Before Nina had even finished looking around, a door flew open and two girls poked their heads through. Then two more. Before Nina could register it, no less than a dozen girls had spilled out onto the deck. Some of them were short, some of them were tall. Some of them were fair, some of them were dark. Some of them moved with grace and confidence, others carefully, on their toes.  
All of them wore identical smiles.  
“You must be Nina,” said a blonde girl at the front. “We’ve heard so much about you.”  
“Only good things,” added another. “Inej says she owes you a lot.”  
Nina looked to Inej, who only smiled back. “She said that, did she?”  
“I may have said that,” Inej admitted.  
Nina took her hand. Their fingers interlocked automatically, in what had already become a habit. “Well, I consider us even. Thank you, Inej Ghafa, for saving my life.”  
Inej beamed at her. For the first time in so long, that mounting dread was quashed, the waves of unease settled within her. For the first time in so long, she felt safe, felt understood, knew she had someone to go to. She’d forgotten the kind of warmth that came with that. “And thank you, Nina, for saving mine.”


End file.
